Daemons Are Forever

CHAPTER THREE

Good and Evil; It’s All Relatives

In the old days, when a general alarm sounded the whole family would run to defend the Hall, but we were warriors then. Now everyone ran to the designated shelters, to hide till it was all over. All my fault, of course, for taking away their golden torcs. The Droods weren’t used to feeling human, and vulnerable. So the Sanctity and its adjoining rooms had become the new panic room for the Droods, though of course no one would ever dream of using such a term. But as I came out of the Sanctity, followed by the rest of the I

Strange had said he could do even more for us, but that would mean bringing more of his substance through into this dimension, and even he had to admit he had no idea exactly what effect so much strange matter might have on the physical laws of our reality. Strange matter wasn’t natural here, and our world didn’t like having it around. Besides, Strange was powerful enough as he was. Trust has always been a difficult thing for me, even before I found out what the Heart really was. So, on behalf of the family, I politely declined Strange’s offer.

Which was why it was now up to me to defend the whole damned family from attack.

The Droods came pouring through the corridors towards the Sanctity, their faces pale and strained. The alarm bells were maddeningly loud, but the Sarjeant-at-Arms still made himself heard over the din, haranguing and bullying the crowds into some kind of order as they filed quickly into the Sanctity. He didn’t need to use much of his trademarked brutality; most of the family were glad to hear an authoritative voice telling them what to do. But then, that’s always been their problem. The Sarjeant scowled at the nervous faces streaming past him and seemed actually ashamed to see the family reduced to such a state. He didn’t look at me, but then, he didn’t have to. I already knew who he blamed.

“I’m going to the War Room,” said Pe

“Right!” I said. “Go! Report back when you get a chance.”

But she was already off and ru

“You stay here and keep a lid on things. Molly, Uncle Jack, we need to get to the Ops Room. Find out who or what we’re up against, before we have to go out and face them. Sarjeant, if they should get past us, and get in here…improvise.”

I set off at a steady pace, ploughing through the increasingly packed corridors, and Molly and the Armourer stuck close behind me. There was a growing sense of panic on the air. My first instinct was to armour up, but I couldn’t do that. It would just have upset all the other Droods who didn’t have their armour anymore, because of me.

I felt like shouting, Look, it seemed like a good idea at the time, okay?

“Who do you think is behind this?” said Molly, squeezing in close beside me. “Manifest Destiny, maybe? Could Truman have finally got his act together?”

“Unlikely,” I said. “We’d have heard something.”

“Could be the prime minister,” said the Armourer. “Expressing his displeasure at having his best secret agents sent back to him in boxes.”

“If they’d been able to capture me, then the Hall might have been next,” I said. “But after what I did to his best bright-eyed boys, he’s probably still hiding under his desk and whimpering. No, this could be any of the groups we were just discussing, keen to get their pre-emptive strikes in first. Look, save your breath for ru

The Operations Room was way over in the south wing, so we were all seriously short of breath by the time we got there. The halls and passageways were increasingly deserted and abandoned, eerily silent. It was a relief to get to Operations, and hear voices talking in a calm, professional way. The Ops Room is a high-tech centre designed to oversee all the Hall’s defences, from sensors to shields to all our various weapons systems. It took the three of us a few minutes to get through the strict security protocols, and then Molly and the Armourer and I hurried into Operations and the great steel door hissed shut behind us, cutting off the clamour of the alarms. The quiet was a blessed relief, and I took a long, deep breath to steady myself.

I’d never been to Operations before; it was mostly put together after I left home. Unlike the War Room, Operations is a much more modest affair. Just a reasonably sized room packed full of computers and other assorted baffling high tech, tended by a dozen or so technicians, under the head of Operations. There was no hurry or bustle or sense of urgency here; men and women sat calmly at their workstations, doing their jobs efficiently and professionally. These people hadn’t forgotten what it was to be a Drood. They kept their heads in an emergency because that was what had been drilled into them; because decisions made in this Room could affect the safety of the whole family.

Holographic displays snapped on and off in midair, showing rapidly shifting images of the Hall, inside and out, and sweeping views of the grounds and all possible approaches to the Hall. I moved quickly from screen to screen, but I was damned if I could see any sign of an invading force anywhere. The skies were empty, the grounds were uninhabited, and all shields were intact and in place. Something must have set off the alarms, but what? I headed for the centre of Operations, and Molly and the Armourer fell naturally in on either side of me. I was glad to have them there. I was starting to feel well out of my depth. I listened carefully to the murmur of voices all around me as the technicians spoke quietly to each other in calm, professional, and utterly baffled voices.

I have rising power levels. All boards are green, all weapons systems on line.

Can anybody see anything? My sensors are clear, right across the board.

Hold it; I’m getting something. A definite Infernal presence.

Infernal? Are you sure?

Hey, it’s not something you can easily confuse with anything else. There’s something from the Pit, right here in our backyard.

Get ready to switch the lawn sprinklers to holy water. And somebody put in a call to all our clerics.

Code Red. I repeat, we have Code Red. Shutting down all u